BIRD LIFE, ETC. 193 



croaking, barking, yelping at a great rate imtil I had 

 passed tiie end of the rock. — Natural Hintorif of 

 Deeside, p. 252. 



37.— Home. 



But it is now getting toward six o'clock, and, as my 

 resting-place is a good way off, it is time to proceed. 

 When I ascended the valley of the Dee, in the end 

 of July, the woods rejoiced in the warm breezes, and 

 spread their green foliage to the sun. Now, in the 

 middle of September, they seem preparing for the 

 winter ; their discoloured and sapless leaves, smitten 

 by the night-frosts and seared by the drought, show 

 no gladness, but speak of decay — beautiful in its 

 gradations, like the passage of the aged Christian to 

 the grave, and very pleasing to the sobered and con- 

 templative mind. I have this year seen these woods 

 of Crathes, when their twigs bore nothing but buds, 

 when their tender leaves were unfolding, when their 

 foliage covered them as a mantle ; and now, in passing, 

 I observe them streaked and patched with the yellow 

 tints of autumn. Winter will again strip them of all 

 their vesture ; but they " will hear the voice of spring 

 and flourish green again." So shall we, whose life is 

 Christ. 



An easterly wind, not cold and penetrating, brings 

 up the clouds successively from the Celtic sea. But 

 scarcely any rain falls, and at intervals the moon is 



o 



